Helmet
by ZABBM
Summary: I offered to write a story about my friend and her current favorite character in Skyrim (Teldryn Sero) in exchange for her giving 13 compliments to my waifu, Grimes. It's kind of romantic, but there's adventure, at least, I think I could call it that.
1. Chapter 1

Our travels have brought us to many places. I've seen too many things for one lifetime; if I were to die now, I would die happy. Hm. That's a weird thing to say. I don't want to die, don't get me wrong, but I've done enough adventuring, if I do say so myself. But I don't want to stop, not for a minute.

You've brought me everywhere, all round Skyrim, slaying dragons, pleasing daedra, stealing sweetrolls. I never would have expected that last part, never. Why me, though? I'm a bit of an ass, can't you tell? Whatever. I don't want to leave, and I'll only say that once.

Remember the road to Whiterun, the path we went down far too many times? I get tired of that place, darling. I know it was your home, but those bastard Kahjiit wouldn't leave me alone. It's the armor, isn't it? Damn them. It's just bug bone. Those merchants are already spineless, they could make some themselves. That was a joke, there. You were always one for jokes, I knew, even back then.

But, remember that day when the storm hit? When it was raining, and we walked all the way from Riften to that Balgruuf's stupid wizard's little shop? All you wanted to do was enchant a few weapons, and for some reason, you couldn't do it anywhere else. What's wrong with you? Oh, right, it was Farengar. I know he's a handsome man, but he's rather a cock, don't you think? Whatever. I'm not mad. No, I'm not.

I just was thinking of that time. Before, well, now, I guess. It feels like an age ago, I can't even relate to it. What took us so long? Was it Farengar? Or, no, that stupid werewolf? I hope he has fun with his stupid god and his stupid hunting and… oh, you cured him? Oh, that's right, isn't it? Damn. Well, all the same, I hate him. And stop laughing, you look like a twit.

What's so funny about it? Fine, forget it. No, let's get off it. No. No, it doesn't… fine. If you must know. Yes, you were just as beautiful back then as you are now. I was a bit jealous, now quit it. I notice those things, okay? I'm not blind. Whenever I took my helmet off, I could see it. It was quite stifling in there, it made it hard to see. You're radiant. You always have been. Now, I'm done.

Where'd I put my helmet? Did you take it again? Where is it?

Stop smiling. You look like you just snagged a purse. You're getting better at that, by the by, if you don't mind me saying.


	2. Chapter 2

I remember you asking about some of my old jobs, working alongside other warriors and the like. Why would you want to know? It's nothing special, really; I fought some monsters, killed some bandits, made some gold, went home. Every time. Well, almost every time, but that doesn't matter. It was boring. I much prefer you. Stop grinning, it's horrid.

Fine, since you won't shut up about it, I might as well tell you one. I did some work for the Black-Briars. I know, they're a bad bunch, but I needed money. I'm a mercenary, remember? My only marketable skill is my complete lack of decency. That's why I hooked up with you. Right, now you know how it feels, friend.

Yes, I am sorry. Can I get back to the story? Thank you.

The matriarch of the family, Maven, was it? I had to guard her for a minute. There was a point in her life when she was a bit jumpy, and I can't blame her. The thieves guild had a bit of a fun time with her for a while, and she was feeling the heat. My job was to make sure nothing happened to her, and that doesn't mean murder.

That Maven is a greedy magpie, and she loves her money. Her purse was fit to burst those days, before she got wise and stopped being a target. I was to slay any pickpockets, or, in this case, any put-pockets that tried to mess with her. It ended ugly.

It was a market day, and at this point, everyone knew not to know me. I wore no helmet, mostly because I didn't have to, and partly because you keep stealing it. What is so funny about it? Why must you always take my things? You treat me like a pack mule, I carry all of your things, but you have to carry mine? What's the point of that? I know it's a cool helmet. I made it myself. I'm good at that. Go make your own.

Anyway, no, put that down. Anyway, I didn't need a helmet. They knew I wasn't to be messed with; the tattoos tell all. I know you love them. I love them too. And they serve a good purpose, because not a single ruffian came up to even speak with Maven for a long time. Not until Brynjolf came.

He was a younger man, then. Yes, even cuter than he is now. I hate that little bastard. He'll always be that little kid that screwed me over, no matter what he does, and no, he was not a child then, but that doesn't make him not a scrawny ass. Oh, he grew up? He filled out? I still hate him.

He snuck up behind me, and tapped me on the armor, just above the small of my back. Yes, right there. No, no I'm not ticklish, just… oh stop, no, please. I have to go on. Please, I have to tell the story. Oh, you're impossible. You kill people daily, how can you be this excitable? Oh, Gods, oh, just… enough with the tickling. I have to go on.

He got me, yes, right there, don't you dare touch it again. He tapped me, just to get my attention. I was wearing pretty heavy armor, so it didn't hurt or anything, but I turned around anyway. Then, he tripped me.

Yes, he tripped me. I am still ashamed at how simple it was. A thief isn't supposed to be some fancy rogue with special mechanisms and magic and whatever, a thief is meant to be the bugger who trips you when you aren't looking, and, for some reason, I hadn't learned that until now. But it wasn't all a failure, not yet, at least.

Like I said, my armor was very heavy. Brynjolf probably thought he could take me down and slip into Maven's pockets without a sound, but that was a mistake. I crashed onto the ground loud enough to wake the dead, and Black-Briar turned, and saw both me and Brynjolf. His cover was blown.

She was furious, both at me and the thief, but mostly at me. How could I have been such a fool? She had lectured me on all the tactics of the Thieve's Guild, and I had not learned a damn thing, apparently. But, she was going to give me a second chance. If I could come back with the kid's head, I would keep my job. At least the calamity would serve as a warning to all other thieves.

I shudder to think what she would have done if I had killed the boy. Seeing that she's Black-Briar, she'd've hung his head in front of her manor. She's truly despicable, isn't she?

I got up, after great effort, and started asking around the market for the direction of the thief. He had run out of the city, apparently to the North, maybe heading for the border of the Rift. I thought he was a coward, so skittish he thought he couldn't even live in the same region as Maven and I. I was wrong.

I started tracking him. I'm no hunter, so it took a while. I spent many a day in the wilderness, barely getting by on rabbit meat and berries. All I had were footprints and the occasional hint from a traveler. I almost was mugged, but then I mugged the mugger. Whew, that was a mouthful. Oh, that's just immature, darling, stop it.

I came across an abandoned mine, after about 5 days. I went in, looking for shelter, but instead, I found Brynjolf. He was sitting, eating a feast's worth of venison, and happy as a clam. I readied my weapon, and he heard me, but he did nothing. He just laughed, me running at him, yelling profanities with my sword raised above my head. But I couldn't kill him. No, not because he was attractive, but because he wasn't going to fight back. I'm a mercenary, not a jackass. I sheathed my weapon, and demanded he return to Riften with me to face "the wrath of the Black-Briar family". This is what he said:

"Sorry friend, what's a Black-Briar going to do?"

"Send an army of mercenaries to punish you and your friends."

"With what money?"

"Are you mad?" At this point, I was being overconfident. I knew I had the reputation of the Black-Briars defending me, or, at least, I thought I did. I thought I could throw muscle around. "Are you not aware of the vast fortune of the Black-Briar empire?"

"Not really."

I was tired of his teasing. "Stop toying with me, boy. You wouldn't have challenged Teldryn Sero if you didn't know there was coin in it for you. Now, I'm done asking questions."

I was a bit of a jerk, back then. I was irritable and sore, so I had a right to be so angry, but still, I wasn't the most pleasant person. Or the smartest.

But he was the not the bravest either. I raised my sword once more, and he backed into a corner.

"You don't have to kill me, elf."

"Give me one good reason."

"I'm very handsome."

A rogue like him couldn't resist a joke. I hoped he learned to shut his mouth as he aged. I readied my sword.

"Okay, okay, look. While you were hunting me, the other thieves went and stole the gold from Maven. All of it. You're her only body guard, man. She can't pay you. You won't get anything for killing me."

Now, I was furious. That was too much. To think I came out all this way, suffered so much, just for nothing? I should not have said what I'm about to say, and I hope that you can forgive me, because I know you like the man, but still. I had a bit of a right to say it, at the time.

"I should kill you, just for that."

Now he was scared. He thought he had won his life. He had no other plan, no escape. I was about to end him, when I heard the door of the mine smash open. We both halted. It didn't sound normal. It was violent, belligerent, and stronger than anything human. He could've dropped me, then and there, I was so frozen in fear, but so was he. It was like time stopped. And there, poking its head into the atrium of the dungeon, was the mottled, horny, ugly, and terrible snout of a Blood Dragon.


End file.
